


Let Sleeping Gods Lie

by Bagheera



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Cthulhu Mythos, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Summoning, don't read the necronomicon, eldritch crack, it'll steal all your sanity points
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagheera/pseuds/Bagheera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summoning Cthulhu is never the solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Sleeping Gods Lie

Even after the end of all things had been averted, the shadows in the cellar seemed to linger in all the wrong places. Now and then, the Master flinched at one of them. He sat in the remotest corner, his back pressed to the wall, and would have hidden his face if he had dared to close his eyes. 

Normally, this would have been the part where the Doctor called in UNIT to arrest the Master, and then the Master did something amusingly clever and once again evaded justice. It was the way they did things now, and if it wasn't particularly effective, then at least there was comparatively little harm done. At the moment, however, the Master didn't look like he was going to do anything but huddle in his corner. It was making the whole situation a little awkward for the Doctor.

"I don't know why you were so surprised. Poor old Howard didn't have much of a sense of humour," he said reproachfully. "When he said 'unspeakable eldritch horrors' he really did mean unspeakable eldritch horrors."

"Could we please... not speak of them?" The Master's eyes were still wide with terror, and his hands moved restlessly, as if looking for something to cling to.

The Doctor pulled up a chair, the only one that was not charred from the bit where the Necronomicon had gone up in flames, and sat down close to the Master with his elbows resting on his knees. It was time to talk some sense into the man, before the Brigadier turned up and saw the Master in this state. That'd be an embarrassment for all Time Lords everywhere. "Now look here, old chap. Do you ever notice a pattern with those schemes of yours? You come along with a fear parasite, and when it runs amok, it's me you turn to. You summon a Chronovore, and who has to save your sorry neck when it frees itself? And then there was that business with the Daleks - honestly, if there's one race in the cosmos nearly as bad as the Great Old Ones, it's them."

"Doctor," the Master pleaded in a hollow voice. The very mention of them made him hunch up in his corner even more.

"You've learned your lesson, then?"

The Master nodded quietly, and clutched at the Doctor's velvet-clad arm. "I promise to repent, if only you will take me with you," he said, all pride forgotten in the face of what had just happened.

It was then that the Doctor remembered the conspicously nice grandfather clock Great Cthulhu had managed to pull with him into the nether-dimensions instead of the Master. Briefly, he wondered if he should worry, but then he decided that not even a dimensionally transcendent time capsule could contain the many-angled ones, so the Master's TARDIS would be useless to them. 

This meant that their positions were reversed now, the Master trapped on Earth and the Doctor free to take him wherever he wanted. It was the sort of twist the Doctor liked, and enabled him to smile genially down at the Master. "Of course, it was a lesson you could have learned all the way back in 37th grade when we tried to raise a Great Vampire. The Dark Arts are never really worth it."

"Trust me, three years detention are bliss compared to -" The Master's voice trailed off as he stared at something in the middle distance, once again remembering what he had glimpsed, if only for a moment.

The Doctor patted his hand, and then felt an odd pang at the grateful look the Master gave him. "There now," he said, pulling them both to their feet. "The book has burned, it was only a dream..."

"Did you tell Lovecraft that, too?" The Master asked, his arch tone a first sign of recovery.

"He always reminded me a little of you," the Doctor evaded. "Far too excitable and sensitive, but could never leave a thing alone, no matter how unpleasant the consequences."

They stepped inside the Doctor's TARDIS. The Master cast a last look at the gloomy room, then glanced at the Doctor. "Have you ever noticed, my dear, that looking at these things doesn't affect you at all?"

The Doctor smiled, and shrugged, and gently pulled the door shut, sealing them in bright and friendly light. The Master nodded at his lack of an answer as if it confirmed a long-held suspicion, and they talked of it no more.


End file.
